


After the Storm

by TheCookieOfDoom



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27738931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/pseuds/TheCookieOfDoom
Summary: After arriving back in Stormwind, recently freed from a gilded Zandalari prison cell, Shaw asked Flynn to meet him at the Gilded Rose. Here's a look at that conversation.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 26
Kudos: 60





	After the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I chose the title bc I temporarily forgot the Fairshaw happens in Shadows Rising instead of Before the Storm, and I thought I was being clever... now we're just going to say the 'storm' is the magical storm in SR /shrug
> 
> The opening scene in italics is from Shadows Rising, so minor spoilers if you haven't read it yet! This fic is why I'd like to think happened after that scene.

_Anduin smirked, then Flynn Fairwind all but shoved the king out of the way, throwing himself at Mathias and wrapping him in a tight, warm hug. Matthias returned it, a greeting he had not expected, but welcomed all the same. He smelled like whiskey and salt and soap. Familiar. Like a dream remembered long after it occurred, like a word that was on the top of the tongue for an age, and now captured._

_“I sailed like a madman.” Flynn pushed his sunburnt cheeks deeper into Shaw’s shoulder. He felt light in Shaw’s arms, as if he had lost weight. The crazy pirate had nearly killed himself sailing for help, and all for him. While Shaw had been rotting in that Zandalari cell, mourning his lost chance at peace and rest, Fairwind had gone and rescued that shining little chance. Shaw didn’t forget things like that, didn’t take them lightly. “Never… never sailed like that before. But I had to get you back.”_

_“And here I am,” Mathias murmured._

_“Here you are.”_

_“Flynn…” Shaw started, clearing his throat. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. Meet me at the Gilded Rose tonight, will you?”_

***

“You’re thinner than I remember,” Shaw remarked. He squeezed his arms around Flynn’s middle, and noticed the sailor’s usual softness was gone in the place of hard muscle. _It looks as though my captivity wasn’t any easier on him than it was on me,_ he thought, wondering if that truly was the cause. With the raw way Flynn had looked at him when he climbed off that ship, he thought it might’ve been. Flynn was exactly the sort to let his grief over a failure affect him so physically. _I hope he’s been taking care of himself._

“Hey, now.” Flynn laughed self-consciously and finally pulled himself away. Shaw was sad to see him go but didn’t stop him. “Now’s hardly the time to remark on my figure.”

“No, I meant…” Shaw pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Never mind.” Flynn was right. There were more important matters to be discussed; he needed to debrief Anduin on what had happened in Zandalar, and deliver his prisoner along with his message to the young king. Flynn had already promised to meet him at the Gilded Rose tonight. They could talk then. Still… “It’s good to see you, Fairwind.” 

“Likewise, mate. Never thought I’d be so glad to see your surly arse again.” Shaw allowed a rare, quiet smile. He gripped Flynn’s forearm tight before leaving him, bringing Anduin to the ship’s hold. 

***

The Gilded Rose was a pleasant tavern, nicer than some of the others in Stormwind, which is exactly the reason Shaw chose it. Not to impress Flynn, of course, Light forbit. While the sailor could appreciate the value of fine baubles and precious stones, and good quality alcohol, he wasn’t moved by such places. Too _highbrow_ for him, he’d say. He was more at home in the rowdy taverns dotting Boralus’ harbor, arm in arm with strangers sloshing their ale and singing bawdy songs. 

In fact, Shaw chose the Gilded Rose exactly because it was the opposite of that sort of place; it was quiet and intimate at midday, and even more say when lit by candlelight in the evening. The perfect place for the conversation Shaw wanted to have. 

As he strode into the tavern dressed in his nicest civilian clothes—fitted brown breeches tapering into leather boots that had an untouched quality to them, far nicer than his usual affair, a deep blue shirt, and a waistcoat with brass-colored embroidery—he cursed himself for not specifying a time to meet his wayward captain. 

_‘Tonight’. As if that doesn’t open a window of at least ten hours._ Shaw could hardly expect to stay in the tavern for the entire night. Oh, he knew Flynn would show up, it was only a matter of _when._ Especially if the captain might expect _Shaw_ to be late, as he often was. It was a rare day the two of their schedules could coincide for some leisurely activity. Flynn might expect Shaw to work late into the evening dealing with his affairs. _Brilliant going, Shaw. Light forsake me._

While lamenting his lack of foresight, Shaw found himself a place in the corner of the tavern. It was within clear sight of the entrance, so he could spot Flynn when the man showed up, and gave him a good vantage point over the open room. He kept his back against the wall as he sat. Even in Stormwind, Shaw was too much of what he was to leave himself open.

At a quarter to eight, only half an hour after Shaw himself arrived at the tavern, Flynn came through the wide door. Shaw almost didn’t recognize him; the ex-pirate had cleaned himself up. He’d combed his wild chestnut mane into a neat plate, and exchanged his patched, ocean-worn outfit for something more sedate, in the traditional Stormwind style.

 _Looks like he knows what this is, then._ Warmth curled pleasantly in Shaw’s belly. 

Flynn garnered more than a few appreciative looks, and ignored them all as he scanned the tavern, his eyes immediately falling to the darkest corners of the building. _He knows me well._ Well enough that it only took Flynn a matter of seconds for his eyes to land on Shaw’s position.

“There you are!” Flynn greeted. He bounded over with his usual energy, only thinking to slow himself down a few paces from Shaw’s small table. He schooled his expression into something serious and sat down across from the spymaster. Shaw felt a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. “How are you this fine evening?”

“I’m well,” Shaw answered evenly. He looked over Flynn and allowed the grin to spread across his face. A few strands had come loose from his elegant braid, and framed his face becomingly. “You clean up well, Fairwind. I have to say, I miss the windswept pirate look you had going on. It suited you.” 

“ _Ex-_ pirate, actually,” Flynn corrected. He relaxed his rigid posture and gave Shaw a lazy grin of his own. “I’ll have you know, I put in quite the effort tonight. You had better appreciate it.”

“I do.” Shaw did. Along with all the rest, Shaw could see Flynn had gone so far as to give himself a fresh shave, and wore a light, earthy cologne, like something out of the dwarven district. _Figures he’d find his place among them._

“What did you want to speak of, Master Shaw?”

“Ah. That…” Shaw had never been a shy man. Never had reason to, when he seldom engaged in matters of the heart. _Is that what this is?_ He asked himself. _Of course it is, don’t be obtuse._

Sitting across from Flynn now, Shaw found himself losing his nerve. He’d thought of this moment for countless hours, _days,_ while he was held prisoner by the Zandalari, planned exactly how it would go, down to every word and response. But Flynn was an unpredictable sort, and while he’d been able to control the man’s responses in the safety of his own mind—and Shaw thought he knew Flynn well enough to accurately guess at the things he’d—he had no such control here. Shaw didn’t like unknown variables, especially not when they left him in a vulnerable position.

“Shaw?”

“Have you been taking care of yourself, Fairwind?” Shaw asked instead. Flynn’s eyes—a beautiful sea blue that Shaw could drown in—widened in surprise. 

“Of course. Don’t worry about me, Spymaster,” Flynn leaned back and patted his stomach heartily, “I could stand to lose a few.” 

“Flynn.” 

“Oh, alright. I was worried, is all. I didn’t know what happened to you. If those blasted trolls had taken you for dead. Tides, I didn’t know _what_ to think.” 

“But that didn’t stop you from carrying on.”

“‘Course not. Had to get you help, didn’t I?” Flynn buried his obvious concern beneath another wide grin and a boisterous laugh. “Look at me, going to save the Spymaster’s life. Who’d’ve thought?”

Shaw didn’t let Flynn get away with the diversion. He reached out to lay a hand on the man’s arm and said, “Thank you, Flynn. Truly.” 

“Ah, well… it’s hardly as though I could’ve left you there…”

They lapsed into a heavy silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable like it might have been. At least not to Shaw, who was content in the quiet. He’d learned that breaks in a conversation left room for the other party to rush to fill it with incriminating information; sometimes it was better to simply listen, than to pry out the information he wanted with digging questions. 

But Flynn didn’t rush to fill the silence like Shaw would have expected. He looked… content. His eyes half-lidded and warm and he sipped his ale, sometimes roaming around the room, the window outside, and other times watching Shaw. It was a quiet sort of companionship that Shaw found himself relaxing into. A tension he didn’t even know he’d been holding released from his body. 

“You know… you never did finish telling me about your grandmother. Back on the _Bold Arva._ ”

“No.” Shaw smiled into his wine. Trust Flynn to remember a detail like that. “No, I don’t suppose I did.” Shaw glanced up to find Flynn already watching him. He expected it, had felt Flynn’s eyes on him. They sparked with curiosity like the sun glinting off ocean waves. _My grandmother was a thief,_ he’d said, back in the cabin of the _Bold Arva. “_ Her name was Pathonia Shaw.”

“Pathonia?” Flynn snickered, just as Shaw had known he would, when he imagined this conversation before. “That’s an awful name. No disrespect to your granny.”

“Oh, it would’ve taken more than that to earn her ire,” Shaw assured him. “She was made of steel. Most knew her as the Silver Cutpurse…” 

And so, Shaw told Flynn a story he’d not shared with any other in a very, very long time. He told Flynn of how she’d been caught stealing three times, and on the third, was given a choice: be hanged, or become a weapon of the Crown. She chose the Crown, of course, and Life. Became a dagger in the night in service to the royal family. She trained her daughter to be just the same, and when his mother died, Pathonia took Shaw in and trained him as well. It was not a life he’d chosen; it had befallen him before he ever had a chance to choose another.

“I’m sorry,” Flynn said solemnly. He idly twisted his pint back and forth. It was empty but he made no call for Allison to refill it. “My life was much the same. After my mother I was turned out on the streets, started picking pockets to get by. Wasn’t long before the Irontides decided to make use of me.”

“What lives we’ve lived,” Shaw sighed. An odd, old kind of nostalgia gripped his heart. “What would you have done, if you could change the past?”

“Dunno, I’ve never given it much thought.” Shaw had the suspicion that that was very much a lie, but he didn’t mention it. “The sea’s the only true home I’ve had since my mother died. I don’t think I’d give it up for anything.”

“Those tortollan creatures have a story about that.” They had a story for just about everything, and an insufferably slow manner in getting around to the point when they don’t it. “Something about how turtles have shells so they can carry their home wherever they go, or some such drivel.”

“I dunno, doesn’t sound like such a bad story to me.” Flynn got that warm, fond look in his sea-glass eyes again. “What would you have done?”

Shaw considered the question carefully. It wasn’t one he liked to ponder. Torturing himself with pointless what-ifs was a quick way to insanity, in his book. But… “I’d like a quiet life. I don’t think it’d matter who I was, so long as it was peaceful.” He wanted a life that would allow him to stay in that cabin in the highlands, in his chair in the long grass, whittling away at his bird figures. He wondered if Flynn would ever give up the sea long enough to join him. Not forever, never that, but… long enough.

Again, Flynn tapped Shaw’s foot underneath the table and gently asked, “Why did you ask me here tonight, Mathias?”

“I wanted to tell you…” _Light help me, I’ve faced worse odds than this. Spit it out already!_ “I’ve been thinking of taking a vacation.”

Flynn raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Yes. To the highlands. I’ve a cabin there.” It wasn’t exactly what he’d meant to say—Shaw wasn’t going to bring up his fanciful dream so soon—but he found himself continuing anyway, bolstered to say, “I’d like you to come with me.”

“ _Oh._ ”

Shaw didn’t know how to take Flynn’s response. _Dammit, I’ve come on too strong._ “I think it’d do us both some good, now that the war’s over, at least for now. This is as quiet as Azeroth’s likely to get. And the highlands are beautiful, I think you’d enjoy them.” Flynn was just _watching_ him, with that trademark shine in his eyes, and Shaw didn’t know what to make of it. His hands were sweating. “Please say something.”

“You don’t have to convince me, Mattie.” Flynn broke into a broad, mischievous grin. “Although if you’d like to continue trying, I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Is that a yes, then? You’ll come?”

“Of course I will. I wouldn’t sail like a madman straight into an Alliance harbor for just anyone, I’ll have you know.”

“It’s settled then.” Shaw smiled, his heart dancing in his chest. _How undignified._ “I’ve got some matters to settle still, but it shouldn’t take too long. And I’m sure the king will grant me leave without a fuss; I’m long overdue.”

Flynn boldly took Shaw’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s settled,” he agreed. Shaw looked at their joined hands. After a moment’s hesitation, he turned his palm up and entwined their fingers, feeling a small spark go through him. How long has it been since he felt such a simple, kind touch against his skin? The way Flynn looked at him, warm and welcoming, told him this wouldn’t be the last time.

***

When Shaw announced his intentions to the king, not only did Anduin grant him leave, he promised Flynn whatever he wanted to ensure Shaw stayed away for at least two weeks.

“I’ve got all I want right here,” Flynn told him, making Shaw feel positively _weak_ as Flynn threw an arm around his shoulders. He tried to keep his stern composure as Anduin watched them both with a knowing grin, and ushered them off. “Although actually, I wouldn’t mind some _compensation_ for my efforts in dealing with this one—okay, okay, I’m coming,” Flynn laughed as Shaw grabbed him by his hair and pulled him out of the Keep.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I've passively shipped Fairshaw since I did the Vault a few months ago, but I never actually sought out any fics. Then imagine my surprise when I find out Blizzard actually made them canon!! So now I've finished Shadow's Rising, Terror by Torchlight, a number of delightful fics, and purchased Exploring Azeroth, all in the span of about a week or so. Good times!
> 
> I haven't written WoW fic in a hot minute! I've forgotten how. It's been what, 3 years now? Almost 4? You'd think I'd write more WoW fic for someone who's dedicated 12 years to the game...
> 
> I have to be honest... this is my first *actual* fairshaw fic (2 days after saying I wouldn't write any fic, too, rip me) but I've actually got another one almost finished, and... I really didn't want that to by my first fic in the fandom T_T You'll see why when I get it posted lol, but it made me rush to get this one actually written today, even though I've felt too awful to write the entire time. Hopefully the fic is actually coherent since i am *so* damn sick..
> 
> I just got confirmed positive for COVID today so! We write to forget. I'm happily drowning myself in fic and Shadowlands and pretending I don't feel like death :' )


End file.
